To Fight Magic with Science
by ShiroSoul95
Summary: Emiya Shirou travels abroad in the footsteps of his recently deceased father, hoping to understand the man's cryptic last message. He finds himself employed by a private military company and learns of the "dark side" of the world; where countries are aware of Magi, and the Magi aware that their centuries of secrecy has come to a close. Shirou is tasked with one goal: to kill Magi.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue Part 1

**Chapter 01: [Prologue Part One] - Confusion**

Japan is an island nation off the coast of China.

To no one's surprise it contains a great deal of prefectures and cities, many hugging the coast.

One such city, Fuyuki, is a particularly interesting case study. It is a strange dwelling upon further inspection. In terms of geography it is located near Kobe, a much larger city that lies to west and is particularly known for their beef dish. The Mion river flows out to the North Pacific Ocean, splitting Fuyuki City into two smaller towns as it goes. Those two smaller towns are Miyama and Shinto.

Miyama. Shinto.

Miyama. Shinto.

Miyama. Shinto.

Shinto? Miyama?

The order doesn't really matter.

Miyama is a sleepy and quiet suburban area. Residents here live peacefully in brick and mortar houses built around long winding roads that hug the hills. Monks and other spiritual humans seeking inner satisfaction reside on the mountain, Mount Enzou, almost giving the entire town a sense of harmony. In the morning, the days are busy, but not hectic. Children rise and go to school, escorted by parents or walking themselves in large groups. Adults shuttle to work, shadowed by teenagers that are hurrying to the district high school at the edge of town. Housewives (and some in some cases househusbands) take the time now to go out to the shopping district on Mount Miyama. They bargain, and hassle for deals while catching up to date on the local news in their infamous gossip circles. They will purchase their goods and return home, anticipating the rest of the day as their children and husbands (and wives) return home.

Miyama is tranquil, distilled into physical form.

And across the Mion river, spanned by an iron suspension bridge lies Shinto.

Shinto is in a sense, the opposite of Miyama. Where Miyama is subdued, Shinto is a boisterous. The prized port area was established during the reign of Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and his conquest of Japan. The port bought all sorts of things from abroad: metals, foods, clothing, electronics, etc. The most important thing this port brought was business. With such large amounts of capital being passed, and such high profile spenders frequently visiting, it was only a matter of time before the clever persons decided to try and profit from the situation. Stores and businesses sprouted overnight, transforming Shinto permanently into a financial district. And where people are, so are food, and restaurants soon followed. Neon signs and the sounds of commerce always go deep into the night, as a bustling city should be like. Not a single quiet moment to be found in Shinto, even more so with the opening of a new mall in the heart of town; a common gathering place now for teenagers and young adults. Not to say that people did not live in the city. High rise apartments rose up into the skyline, ready to becoming the living places of blue collar and office workers that commute into the city. Westerners also live in the luxurious condos, many coming to the port for business but subsequently falling in love with the city and not willing to leave. And with their stay so are Western influences. Shinto's the lively cousin of the family, unknown to most but excited and forever changing to those that get to know it.

Shinto is vivacity, distilled into physical form.

It was ordinary. Yes, there were some unique things about the city, but all cities have their special aspects. But Fuyuki was like every other city in the regard that it wasn't anything more than a city.

Miyama and Shinto. The "uniqueness" discussed earlier is this strange dichotomy. The ability to have both tranquility and vivacity exist side by side and not overpower one another, rendering Fuyuki an amalgam of the two ideals. As a result, the flavor of Fuyuki; no the tone of Fuyuki was distinctive.

And because of that, Kiritsugu Emiya called Fuyuki City home. His entire self could be described as killing people, to save people. The city reflected himself: a contradiction.

Fuyuki City was the home base of the now retired "Magus Killer."

He resided in Miyama, in a secluded area where he had bought a classical Japanese estate dating back to the Meiji restoration period. With nearly 8 bedrooms and a sprawling yard along with a dojo and work shed in the rear of the manor, it was a large place. And it was only inhabited by two people. One may wonder how a man with a fearsome a moniker as the "Magus Killer" would choose such a quaint and loud city to be his home base, but that just goes to show Kiritsugu's brilliance. How many people would expect a black listed man in the circles of Mag in the west to be living in such a city? Not many. And even less would expect him to be in Fuyuki in particular, with what happened to the city in the past.

"Hide a tree in a forest"

"To stay in plain sight"

Using those two ideals, he lives in peace, not expecting any trouble for the foreseeable future. But that future was coming to a close.

It was a Friday night, when Kiritsugu decided that he couldn't go to sleep.

The rainy season of Japan, or baiyu as the locals called it, was in full swing. The nights were hot and humid, while the mornings were cold and wet with rain. Unpleasant weather made for unpleasant sleep, but Kiritsugu persevered. But at some point in the night Kiritsugu realized that the humidity vanished and the air became significantly colder.

He removed the blanket that was on top of him and slowly lifted his body upright. The signs of old age were present, all though it was more strange to see a man in his late 30s having issues like he was 72. Rearranging the hakama he wore, Kiritsugu slowly shambled down the hall way with uneven steps. The floor boards creaked here and there, but not too loudly, so he wasn't too worried about waking up the other resident of the house who was asleep. His shuffling stopped when he approached the living room and the entrance to the yard.

He sat down on the wooden porch without much fanfare and stared up into the sky. A silver sliver hung serenely in the sky, outshining other small twinkling dots. Kiritsugu sighed contentedly as a breeze flew across the yard, rolling off the lawn and buffeting the man softly. The smell of grass and dew washed over him. The wind was quite cold, but at his age (and with his constitution) he barely felt it. Running a hand through his messy hair Kiritsugu sighed again, wondering how exactly life had become so peaceful. He was reaching the age of 40, with graying hair and a frail body. He slept most of the day away and was tended to by his kind son.

Ah yes, all that had to happen was to lose his wife, daughter, and kill several hundred people in a fire that leveled three city blocks of residential housing and commerce.

"Hey Old Man"

Kiritsugu turned his head around slowly, his eyes meeting a pair of golden orbs.

"Ah, Shirou, did I wake you?"

The boy was fairly tall for his age, built solidly with a round face that made him seem even more youthful, though this contrasted sharply with the boy's no nonsense expression.

"Yeah, I heard you walking past my room. I could tell because your footsteps fall at different places, not one after another like Fujimura-san."

By Fujimura-san he was referring to Fujimura Raiga, not Fujimura Taiga. The older man was in great shape for being as old as he was, something that Kiritsugu was slightly envious of.

"I see, I see. I'm sorry for waking you up," Kiritsugu nodded as he closed his eyes and leaned backward.

Shirou answered back with silence.

The shuffling of feet behind him made Kiritsugu open his eyes, watching his son walk back into the house. Light's turned on in the living room followed by a few seconds by the sounds of cupboards being opened the closed, and water running from the tap. In a few minutes the boy returned, holding blankets in one arm and a tray of warm tea on the other.

"You can't be in clothes like that in weather like this. It's too cold. I don't want you to be sick" Shirou said.

 _Because it's obvious how weak you are.  
_  
The pair wrapped themselves in the blankets that sheltered them from the soft cold breeze. The next hour was passed with conversation between father and adopted son. Subjects ranged from television shows, to sports, to a certain purple hair girl who seemed to enjoy waiting for Shirou in front of their manor so that they could walk to school together. Kiritsugu made a glancing joke that Shirou was turning out to be quite the smooth operator. The red haired boy blushed a deep red and vehemently denied that there was anything going on between the two friends, absolutely nothing.

"Dad?" Shirou called, his voice containing a slight hint of irritation.

"Hmm?" Kiritsugu inquired, opening his eyes slowly to regard son.

"You're doing that thing again. Where you just stop talking in the middle of a sentence and fall asleep," Shirou muttered as he faced away from his father to stare intently at the dojo across the yard trying to hide the worry on his face.

Kiritsugu chuckled as he reached out and roughly shook the red-haired boy's head.

"Sorry kiddo, just thinking about my wife."

Shirou's eyes widened. His guardian did mention in passing his previous family. Not much, just that he had a wife who had died and a daughter with whom he was separated from. Shirou never pushed for anything else, but he was always curious.

"The one… who died?" the boy asked slowly turning towards his father, unsure how to broach the topic.

Kiritsugu nodded, "I never told you about her did I?"

Shirou shook his head, slightly in disbelief at his father's actions.

Kiritsugu looked back up at the moon, for a second seeing the reflection of his late wife in the face of the bright orb. "Her name was Irisviel von Einzbern. She looked like a fairy. Long white hair that danced in the wind, soft red eyes that you could see yourself melt into, a voice that made even the heaven's cry."

Kiritsugu hung his head for a second, hearing Shirou softly repeat the name of the woman who had enraptured his heart. "She loved everything about the world. She didn't see much of it, living in a secluded part of Germany. But she still loved the world for the small part I showed her. She was always so…happy."

Until she died.

"And we had a child, Illyasiviel. Small cute thing she was. Looked just like her mother, though I think she had my tongue. Constantly saying the cheekiest things. You should have heard her complain when we played a game to see who could find the most walnut buds, trying to ensnare me in rules that would give her easiest path to victory. Oh the times, she would be around your age now."

The words seemed to tumble out of his mouth, suddenly moving on to his daughter unconsciously. Illya was the light of his life, a symbol of love between him and Iri. Iri loved the little girl dearly and wished for her to stay alive so that Kiritsugu had someone to return to when the war ended and Iri would eventually die. Kiritsugu's heart ached. Illya was all he said before and much more. He remembered her being so intelligent for her age, but at the same time so dependent on her parents for the basic needs. He remembered how she would always call out Papa when she needed something and Kiritsugu when she was angry. In hindsight, she was quite the entitled one. But she was innocently entitled, believing that her parents could do anything and wanting to reach for the sky on her father's shoulders.

"Sounds like you loved them a lot"

Shirou's blunt statement caused a sense of aimlessness to bubble up in Kiritsugu.

"Yeah," Kiritsugu affirmed, choking slightly as emotions welled in his throat, "Loved them more than my own heart…but my goal was still more important than them."

Shirou blinked, "Goal?" he asked, though on the inside he already knew.

"Yes Shirou-kun, I tried to be a hero. But being a hero is hard. Sometimes people have to die and leave, even if they're your own wife and daughter"

Life was cruel that way, but it wasn't unfair.

Shirou didn't answer, returning his eyes back to the stars. Silence came down upon them like a blanket, creating a strange mood. Neither males needed to talk, but Shirou wanted to say something and defend his savior-turned-guardian from the self-derisive comments. Kiritsugu was right, but Shirou was sure the path was still true! Kiritsugu meant the world to Shirou, his very actions resonated within the boy to the point where it seemed twisted. This silence was unbearable

"You know…," Kiritsugu drawled, sipping tea from his cup slowly "If I didn't take the path of the hero, I doubt I would have met you."

A lot of things wouldn't have occurred if Kiritsugu hadn't tried to do what he had done, placing lives upon a scale. Kill fifty to save a thousand, kill one to save two, or lose two to save six billion. He probably wouldn't have killed Natalia; saved Maiya; fallen in love with Irisviel; had Illya; summoned Saber, walked through the Fuyuki fire; or saved Shirou.

Shirou stared down at the wisps of steam that lazily rolled out of his tea and raised the cup to his lips, deciding to take a sip.

"And I'm glad I was able to find a son that I could love with the rest of my heart."

"Pfffffft" Shirou spat out his tea at the sudden words, coughing as he yelled at his father indignantly, "DAD!"

Kiritsugu laughed at the light blush on his sons face. Shirou's plus points were definitely in his honesty. He could see why Sakura had taken a liking to Shirou. He gave a light hit to the upset child's back and leaned backwards to stare up at the moon. Still shining clearly and giving the impression that it was the unmovable witness of the talk between father and son.

"It would have been nice," Shirou said breaking the brief silence with words out of the blue, "Meeting your wife and daughter I mean."

Kiritsugu's brain stopped as his eyes unconsciously shifted over at the boy. He had never thought about it before. How would have his previous family reacted to Shirou? If Kiritsugu knew Iri, she'd be enamored with the boy; easily taking to the prospect of being mother to another child, especially if Kiritsugu intended to play father. She'd like the boy's diligence and kindness. Shirou was also rather mature for his age; he'd be the perfect foil to his ditz of a mother. She would be able to comfort him whenever he had the recurring nightmares of the fire and reassure him of safety. He could see moments at night when Shirou's screams could be heard down the halls of the manor, when Iri would slowly leave the master bedroom not trying to disturb her husband's slumber and make her way to Shirou's room. She would get in the same bed as the boy and hug him, whispering sweet nothings of safety and security into his ear until both fell asleep.

Yeah, that's exactly what Iri would do.

Now Illya was a tough one. She'd initially either accept the boy as her own flesh and blood brother or reject him and see him as competition. But she'd eventually warm up to him, a boy as honest and submissive would crumble before the daughter's charisma and she would have no choice but to take him under her broad wings. The misadventures the pair would go on would be legendary. Illya blazing a path while Shirou tried to reason with her to stop or keep things from going out of hand. Maybe call Iri or Kiritsugu over, but in the end Shirou would find himself following her. Kiritsugu could imagine the two coming back from the wilderness dirty and bruised, a majority of them being on Shirou since he would be protecting her from falls and trips no matter how minor. Illya would later spin some grand tale of action and adventure while Shirou would probably argue over the validity of some of details of their escapade.

 _"We fought off a dragon!"_

"No you woke a hibernating bear and we had to run before it killed us!"

"The gorge was humongous! We needed to make a bridge from sticks to cross it!"

"No! It was just a small trench, and you forced me to be a bridge! Look! I still have your foot prints on my jacket!"

Ira would definitely laugh and clap her hands while suggesting the two take a bath and cleanup for dinner. And then it would begin. The fear setting in their eyes as the realization that Iri had tried cooking would settle in. Shirou would quickly take a shower and rush off to make an entirely new meal from scratch, he was awfully talented in household chores. Illya would follow him, to make sure his cooking was satisfactory, but her true goal being the one to taste-test Shirou's culinary prowess. And Kiritsugu would be looking on from the red velvet chair near the fireplace, chuckling softly to himself as he gazed fondly upon the family's antics, maybe falling asleep for a quick nap until Illya and Shirou came to wake him. Illya would be pushing and shoving while Shirou would softly nudge his arm and call his name. Then they would gather for dinner around a small wooden table, Kiritsugu sitting at the front with Irisviel on his left and the two children sitting next to them on his right. And they would eat to a warm family atmosphere. Shirou would fit in just fine. In fact, Kiritsugu easily believed that the child would complete the family. Make it whole in a way Kiritsugu never thought possible.

"I'm sure they would have been overjoyed meeting you as well," he said. Setting down his empty cup, Kiritsugu laid his back down upon the wooden floor, feet dangling on the edge as he let out a peaceful breath.

"You think so?" Shirou asked, very clearly unsure. He was probably thinking that Illya would kill him for taking her father (a bit accurate but he didn't need to know that)

"I know so."

Stillness once again reigned supreme, but that didn't register to Kiritsugu. In his mind's eye he only saw the four-person family he just imagined. The things this family could have done. The pure love that could have been exchanged. The happy times they could have celebrated as one. The bad times they could have weathered together. What it would be like to have Iri and Illya once again, along with Shirou who could have easily been their birth son. It felt so real, as if he was on the edge of it. All these possibilities played through his head, to a light tune he didn't realize he was humming until he felt light vibrations in his chest.

These memories were just so warm.

The things Kiritsugu would do to achieve it. Path of a hero be damned, a family like this should have been his goal. If only…

"What a beautiful moon" he spoke softly, and looked over at his son.

In these past 6 years that he looked over the boy Kiritsugu felt like it was a daze. One day Shirou was adjusting to his new home before being sent to school. The Fujimura's integrated themselves into the boy's life next, with Taiga being the older sister figure that helped to ground the maternal role that Kiritsugu lacked. Life was good.

Yes, life was very good. To the point where Kiritsugu realized he didn't deserve it, and that karma was about to make the balance.

Kiritsugu realized he was going to die.

And his biggest fear wasn't death, but rather what would become of his son. He had nothing to leave behind, well he did write down that his house and all his assets be passed down to his son in eventuality of his death as specified by will. But those were tangible. Shirou was a young boy, but he was a broken person, Kiritsugu realized this.

So he tried to give what he could.

He taught Shirou how to fight. He taught Shirou how to shoot a gun. He taught Shirou tactics. He taught Shirou strategy. He taught Shirou first aid.

In the end, Kiritsugu gave all that he had, all that he knew.

"You know Shirou," the retired Magus-Killer began, "I tried to be a hero."

"I know Dad, you said it already." Shirou patiently answered, swinging his legs one after the other on the porch.

"I tried to be a hero, but in the end…I wasn't able to be a hero."

Shirou legs stopped, and he peered over at his father.

"Being a hero means that you have to save everyone. But you can't Shirou, you can't save everyone. Sometimes you have to kill people. A lot of people maybe, a little people. But someone always has to go. I lost a lot of people I loved Shirou, trying to be a hero. It's the correct thing to do Shirou, but it's not the right thing to do."

"What does that mean Dad?"

"Who knows? I'm sure God doesn't even have an answer. Justice is what you make of it Shirou, my justice was saving as many people as I could, no matter the cost. Majority over minority."

Shirou responded with silence.

"I don't know…if that was the right decision…"

Kiritsugu closed his eyes and leaned back. The world was taking him now. And he didn't have the strength to fight back.

Kiritsugu Emiya died that night, in a painless sleep.

* * *

The funeral for Emiya Kiritsugu was a quiet affair. Only a total of three people were present for the ceremony, not that the participants wanted more. In fact, Fujumura Raiga commented that this was perfect for a quiet man such as Kiritsugu, being surrounded by only his loved ones as they welcomed him off to the other world.

Fujumura Raiga set up the ceremony at Ryuudou temple.

Despite Kiritsugu not being religious or showing any signs of faith, the trio had decided that this was most appropriate, a Buddhist send off.

Shirou agreed, the zen aura of Kiritsugu's last moments was well in line with this.

Fujimura Taiga could not stay quiet during the ceremony and cremation. Her eyes were constantly watering, and her sobs could be said to be able to resonate in the bodies of all living things. Even the monks in the temple found themselves downcast with the sound of her wailing.

And Shirou understood why she was so affected; Taiga was in love with Kiritsugu.

But while Shirou was preoccupied with Taiga, the two Fujimura's only had Shirou in mind. Kiritsugu's will clearly stated that Shirou was to receive the Emiya estate and everything in it. Along with that all of Kiritsugu's bank accounts would be consolidated into a single master account in Sweden and given to Shirou. Raiga oversaw all of the transactions and decided that Taiga would be the legal guardian of the boy, while Raiga would handle the money until Shirou was old enough to use it himself.

What worried the two the most besides Shirou future, was Shirou right now.

The boy's expression did not change from the night they ran over to Shirous house after getting a furious call that the father wasn't waking up. The ambulance arrived a few minutes after they did, and Kiritsugu could not be resuscitated. He was pronounced dead at the scene.

Shirou's blank face was the same as it was three days ago.

The boy did not cry.

And it was beginning to worry them.

The ceremony ended quietly, the monks giving a small jar of Kiritsugu's ashes to Shirou. The boy accepted it with a single word of thanks and turned to exit the temple, Taiga and Raiga in tow.

"I want to be alone for a while."

Shirou told them of his wish with childish words, his voice raspy from the days of disuse.

And they let him, wanting to give the boy some space as he came to terms with the fact that he had lost his father so quickly.

Inside his room Shirou stared at the jar of ash.

His mind was torn between a torrent of emotions.

Was he happy?

No, he was not happy.

Was he sad?

Yes, he was sad. Of course he was sad. For Kiritsugu, his savior and father, had left him.

Was he angry?

No, he wasn't angry. There was no one to blame. Kiritsugu's death was peaceful and quiet, if sudden. His sickness was progressing as it always had.

But what shadowed those emotions, was the feeling of confusion.

His father's last words continually played back in his mind.

" " _ **I don't know…if that was the right decision…"**_ **"**

There was no way his father was unsure of the path of being a hero of justice could he? He knew that his father had sacrificed much, and had suffered much. He lost his wife and daughter, but he must have found the path to be worth it in the end right?

There was no possible way that Kiritsugu was wrong!

No possible way.

When Kiritsugu had saved Shirou that night from that huge fire, he had a smile on his face. Shirou had never seen such a smile on any face in his life, after that event. Such a smile was pure and radiant. As if everything was right with the world, and the holder was in complete euphoria. A complete satisfaction and happiness that Shirou wanted to achieve himself.

That was the basis of all of Shirou's life after the fire. He wanted to smile like Kiritsugu did. He wanted to be as happy as Kiritsugu was, he wanted others to feel like he did when Kiritsugu saved him.

If saving even one life could bring happiness like that to one person, then it would give himself worth.

But if Kiritsugu was wrong…what did that mean?

"I don't get it, Dad, what were you saying?"

Shirou whimpered as he held his head in his arms. The stress of recent events and tragedy was finally getting to him as he felt the world slipping from his fingertips.

"I don't…understand, Dad!"

Tears started flowing down his face as he howled.

"I DON'T UNDERSTAND DAD!"

 **Emiya Shirou came to the realization that he did not understand Emiya Kiritsugu.**

* * *

 _ **Authors Notes:**_

 ** _Authors Notes:_**

 ** _A new story from a writer whose aware that he can never keep a project going. But I promise this time that I'll try my hardest to keep this one going! Apologies for those that are extremely angry at me._**

 ** _My main problem with writing FSN fanfiction is that I'm never able to create interesting enough conflicts within the bounds of the Holy Grail War. It's probably my biggest gripe with FSN as a whole, the Holy Grail War just isn't a good premise for a story because the lack of rules and solid foundations (rules that can't/aren't broken) don't really give me a framework to build in. So I decided to get rid of it. My story will not be about the Holy Grail War._**

 ** _Instead I decided to make the story far more character driven rather than plot driven, though I don't I'll be able to do it correctly with my current ability as a writer. I wish to look further into Shirou's character as a "Sword" and his ideals. Also, I find that many stories don't delve in the WHYS of Shirou's. Like WHY is he so self-sacrificing. WHY is he so naïve._**

I want to make Saber into a more human figure and explore her mentality as a person. Something the original FSN story severely lacked. I also have big plans for her.

And before we get anywhere else, yes it will be Saber X Shirou. I find her to be the best fit as a partner for Shirou because I feel like she understood him the most out of the three heroines. Saber understands Kiritsugus effect on Shirou, and his quirks with lack of self-value and fascination with saving others. It's actually part of her own character as well, and it just makes the two fit together better as a couple.

The relationship between Kiritsugu and Shirou as well, must be expanded upon. Kiritsugu is a fascinating character, and I feel like his legacy will be more potent if examined properly.

And why not talk about the idea of Science's roll in the Nasuverse? Why not have a battle between Science and Magic?

 ** _Why not?_**

The approach will be similar to "A Certain Magical Index" but the science I'll be using will hopefully be better explained and make more sense from a military standard.

And no ESPers

That's enough for that discussion, talking about what I wrote is enough to entice you XD

 ** _I found it interesting that many stories in the FSN-fandom doesn't really talk about how strange Fuyuki is as a city. So I decided to make it my introduction, and compare it to Kiritsugu as a character. Both are contradictions living in harmony._**

 ** _The talk between father and son is another portion that I took from a previous story I had written because I felt it was very well done and had a space here. That story has been deleted because I had an issue with it previously._**

I'm trying to characterize Kiritsugu as much as I can because [Spoiler not spoiler] he dies at the end of the chapter.

I'm trying to set up a Shirou who is confused at the last words of his father and travels abroad to try to understand Kiritsugu more, and as a result come to understand him better.

 ** _The idea that Shirou borrows Kiritsugu's ideals, has bored me. What about a Shirou that follows Kiritsugu's ideals to the letter? What if Shirou is trying to be Kiritsugu? In an attempt to gain better understanding of him? Note that Shirou only has known Kiritsugu for about 6 years, and Kiritsugu was away a lot, the two aren't as close as everyone seems to believe._**

Intriguing no?

Second chapter may come out in a month or so. Finals coming up.

\- Soul-Kun


	2. Chapter 2: Prologue Part 2

**Chapter 02: [Prologue Part 2] - "Avesta Papers"**

It was in 1996 when the "Avesta Papers" were brought forth to the parliament in Sweden.

It was a collection of documents given anomalously to the intelligence agency located in the small Eastern European country. All that were known about the origins or source of the papers was that it had come shipped from the city of Avesta.

Thus the named "Avesta Papers."

The way it was delivered not being suspicious enough, the contents of the paper made it even more strange.

It discussed the existence of practitioners of miracles and mysteries, known as Magi. An underground society that were devoted to reaching something called "the Root." The way that the papers described it, "the Root" was the source of all of human knowledge from the past, present, and future. The papers went off into darker and more sinister topics. It discussed the fact that many of these Magi had no sense of morality, committing huge acts of terror and mass murder for particular magical experiments. It said that many of these Magi are from long standing families that have roots tied to the very founding's of countries. Using hypnotism and exerting indirect political pressure, Magi covered up their tracts and gained supplies using extortion, corruption, and plain old stealing. It outlined the details of how hypnotism worked and its symptoms.

The papers were scoffed at first, but when another package came in a few days later all was changed.

The second part of the "Avesta Papers" contained a list of names of people supposedly involved in a Magi family.

This part levied claims that these people were involved in the scandals in the previous part.

There were a total of 48 names on that list, with detailed descriptions about how each were involved in the other. The actual family of Magi, called the Woundworts, were far removed from society, living in a castle just outside of the city of Avesta on family land given to them by peerage around the year 1000 AD when they were graced by the King for distinguished services in war. The list included politicians, socialites, heads of industries, and many other famous and influential people.

The intelligence community decided to look into the issue that the paper brought forward. Using the trail of breadcrumbs that the paper had provided them, they expected it to be a conspiracy theory from a nut job of a citizen. Magic couldn't exist could it?

They were wrong.

The investigation stumbled across its first major discovery merely 72 hours in. A local magnate in charge of steel processing had recently donated a very large sum of money to a Swiss bank in the name of charity, and filed for tax breaks as a result. The money however, apparently went missing, the Swiss bank responding that the money was never wired to them. However, a large shipment of gold was taken from their deposits.

And the rabbit hole went much, much deeper.

The Woundworts had no tax history, no tax revenue, nor did they have any existing bank accounts. Their family had no identification, no pass port, no medical history, but they did not leave the country or their estate. They existed in name only, and were never seen or heard off.

Street camera's outside the estate observed a select few people were to enter for days at a time to come out just as abruptly as they entered.

And sometimes people never came out.

But there was not a single missing person's report filed.

When the camera footage was analyzed and the identities of those people discovered, to the horror of the investigators, the families of those identified were also missing.

And the investigations continued.

A string of murders tied to a politician who was involved in smuggling items into the country were uncovered and linked back to the Woundworts. The items went missing soon after, the politician found dead in a river. Thought to have gotten drunk and then attempted to swim. No further investigation at the time and the morgue was ordered to cremate the body. This lead to the uncovering of embezzlement of funds from a major corporation by the politicians' oldest son, who was a board of trustees' member of that company. His accomplices were bank officials who aided the Secretary of Treasury in the national government.

And the web went on and grew complicated.

Some people had lost their memories of incidents, displaying characteristic signs of hypnosis as described by the "Avesta Papers." Many of these ended up killing themselves when subjected to questioning.

But the credibility and evidence behind the secret documents get getting larger.

At some point, when the true scope was discovered and evidence gathered, a secret meeting of select parliament members not tied to the "Avesta Papers" and the prime minister were gathered and the results expunged.

To say they were shocked was to say the least. After hours of deliberation they had come to a conclusion: state secrets and power was being held by the Woundworts, and they had a precedence of using this influence for their own benefit. They did not act in the best interest of the country, and was to be captured and taken in for question.

In less than 8 hours a whole battalion of Sweden soldiers were gathered to storm the castle. The confrontation was not swift, but it was severe. The castle retaliated with inexplicable boundaries and attacks, but the battalion eventually made it through. The family and servants inside were not willing to be taken silently as well, and a battle broke out. In the end all 24 members of the family were killed, along with 53 servants. 10 were captured, but displayed signs of being hypnotized. They ending up committing suicide when tortured using unexplainable means.

The news was harrowing to Sweden, and they rigorously investigated the Avesta papers, searching for the writer. In less than a week the source was found and brought in for questioning.

The writer was Stephen Rosklide, a fellow Magi whose family was killed by Woundworts. He described that his main motive for revealing the Woundworts was for revenge, as well as disdain for Magi as a whole. He made it clear that he was doing it for his own goals.

Rosklide cemented the fact in the government's mind that Magi play at their won rules.

The government purged itself. Using Roskilde as a source, they gathered evidence and imprisoned all involved with the Woundwort incident.

12 politicians were captured and imprisoned under corruption charges, and treason.

152 citizens, including many CEOS and business men, imprisoned under charges of treason, tax evasion, and embezzlement.

30 more people were killed, or ended up being killed due to hypnotism.

A report was written by Sweden and brought to a secret gathering of the EU. They provided evidence and came forward with a method to detect and protect against hypnotism, developed in combination with Rosklide and modern science.

The EUs response was swift and brutal.

Using Rosklide's knowledge of the Magi world, more Magi were brought forward who provided information about those involved in governments all over Europe. Investigations continued for 2 years, before in 2000, an incident known as "the Inquisition" occurred,

Magi were captured or killed across the European Union. Scandles involving famous people came to light and ended in the purging of governments. The Clocktower was brought down by the MI5 in 2001, they were thought to have been relocated in other countries.

Inhuman experiments and murders came to light as the world realized that Magi were among them and in the shadows.

Magi and magic became an open secret. Governments denied their existence by never speaking of them, but the people soon grew to know. Some believe they exist, others think of them as urban legends. Some thought of them as cold blooded maniacs who would experiment on them, others thought of magic as something romantic.

All that was certain was that "they" weren't one of "them."

And in this world, the "magicless" and "mundane" decided that they would fight back.

In such a world, Shirou decided to venture into, as his father did before him.

* * *

 _ **I was writing the plot outline to this story when my friend gave the opinion that the setting was good but had no real context.**_

 _ **How can Science fight Magic if Magic is supposed to be secret.**_

 _ **"That's a good point." I said and I quickly wrote this while sitting in my Anatomy and Physiology II class.**_

 _ **The main idea I wanted to convey was that Magi are working in their own interest, and because of this the world discovered them when they slighted one of their own. It's not my best work but I wanted to set the scene and backstory. I also tried to make it sound as realistic as I could. I'll be back on full steam trying to get my outline done and work on the actual story.**_

 _ **Until next time!**_

 _ **-Soul-kun**_


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